


We Quit

by Eliizaah7



Series: Red vs Blue (Crack ships - short stories) [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Fake Character Death, Felix in love, Felix out of character, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of Sex, RvB Rare Pair Week, unexpected love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliizaah7/pseuds/Eliizaah7
Summary: Felix falls hard in love. Who would've said that he actually had that ability?





	We Quit

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We Quit.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422775) by [Eliizaah7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliizaah7/pseuds/Eliizaah7). 



> Hi there!  
> This is the very first story that I write something about RvB. Plus, english is not my native language.  
> I'm sorry because I write Felix so out of character, I kinda lost it a little.  
> Any advices are welcome, please don't be rude with me lol.  
> So I really hope that you enjoy this story.
> 
>  
> 
> I would also like to thank Ria very much, since she was a really great help.

 

A trembling sigh came from his lips that were wet from his own tears. A couple of knocks on his door make him wipe the wetness from his face abruptly.

— What? — he growls, getting up from his bed, unconsciously squeezing the piece of metal between his fingers while the door opens.

Locus enters in the room, helmet off, giving him a strange look. And Felix mentally curses himself for not having his helmet close so he could cover his reddened eyes: _where the hell did he leave it?_

Locus took a few steps forward and extends his hand to him. The smaller mercenary sighs when he see his helmet hanging from his partner's fingers.

— I’m sorry. — the swarthy man murmurs , with a low, empathic and grievous tone in his voice.  Felix bit his lip, silencing a sigh as he put on his helmet— Isaac ... —he whispers, advancing a little more, the strange look getting more intense, and the marine in steel/orange armor know that look ... pity. Locus feels pity _for him._

— Codenames. —Felix reminds him. His partner give him a tired and sad smile—. I'm f-fine, Locus. — he replies, his voice betraying him, breaking the middle of the sentence. He clears his throat and ignores the pressure in his chest—. I ... I’ll be fine.

— You know what? —the other marine asks, putting his helmet on too—. Maybe he made it, maybe he actually is…

— Stop it. —Felix asks in a tense whisper, holding the sore sigh that threatens to explode on his lips—. I saw him, he… he was covered in, uh… —the memories hitting his head making him stop talking, he close his eyes trying to erase them before he breaks… again—. He didn’t make it. —he finishs, his chest burning of despair, impotence and rage… Before he can stop himself, his voice sound again—. I ordered them clearly… they knew that they should not aim their weapons against him… Goddamn it, they fucking knew! — he yells, letting himself fall back onto the bed—. He must be safe.

— None of our soldiers aimed at him…

— Oh, really? —Felix turns his head a little—. So, how the fuck did he end up covered in bullets? Ah? How do you explain the damn pool of blood under him? —he growls, his voice rising a couple octaves—. His blood is still there, Locus.

He squeezes his fingers around the metal piece and presses his fist to his chest, his gloved thumb stroking the length of the robotic finger, _his_ robotic finger, the only thing he managed to rescue from the mess of blood on the snow, after all the sim troopers disappeared with the two Freelancers. 

Now he was God knows where, bleeding… _dead_. He struggles to breathe when he thinks of _him_ as if he was gone, if he was ... _What the hell were they?_ Felix doesn’t know, but he was his ... his Richard ... his.

— He made a maneuver, changing places with the aqua one. —Locus replies. Felix turns his head almost violently, the rough movement giving Locus an idea of the poisoned look that his partner was sending him.

— Are you suggesting that it was _his_ fault? —he growls—. He is not the one to blame for any-fucking-thing.

— No, I didn’t mean that. But the bullets were aimed at the Captain Tucker. —Locus answers calmly, his voice low, keeping the soft tone, and then he sighs, tilting his head—. Now… are you still with us?

— What? — Felix asks, suddenly losing the thread of the conversation.

— I understand that your current _situation_ is… complicated.

— Oh. — Felix murmurs, cocking his head, giggling darkly—. Do you think I’ll stay here drowning myself in my misery? Do you really think that I will not do the impossible to destroy those guilty of _his_ death?

— Our soldiers…—Locus begins, but Felix cuts him off, raising his hand.

—I’m not talking about them…—he grunts—. I’m talking about the assholes: the reds and blues, I’m talking about the motherfucker Tucker, who used him as his damn shield.

— Alright, then. —Locus answers—. Y’know? I‘ve never expected that you of all people…

— Me neither, Locus. Me neither. —The other mercenary whispers, passing by his side.

And it is true, Felix hasn’t expected at all any of this to ever happen.

 

* * *

 

 

When he meets the Reds and Blues, the only thing he can think is that they were really a bunch of idiots. He just has to continue with his act of the mercenary with a heart of gold and a righteous soul.

Everyone believed it, well, there was no reason for them not to do it, anyways: he is fucking awesome. He just have to keep up with the act while collecting information and preventing the captains from getting too close to the other reds and blues.

But, everything change one night, during his patrol. He goes through the workshop and hear metallic movement, and he is bored enough to go and check who is in the shop at that late. When he come in, he see the captain of the red team putting on the armor of his left arm. Simmons shudders in fright when he sees Felix, beginning to stutter an apology in case he is breaking a rule by being there or something.

It is then he have the opportunity to get some information from the nervous and insecure captain. It would be as easy as killing a person without armor.

— Woah, dude relax, you’re not breaking any rules… - Felix replies, putting his hands on the table where the captain was working on… whatever he was working on—. So… what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s kinda late.

— Uh, well, yeah. I know. — the taller man replies, lowering slightly is head.  Then, looking at the golden visor, Felix realizes something… he had never seen Simmons’ face. He had seen all the captains’ but _his._

— Sleeplessness? —Felix asks, handling a worry tone that almost makes him laugh.

— Uhm, sure, something like that. —Simmons replies, and he raises and turns his head. Felix follows the line of the visor, he is looking at the exit. _Oh no, he is not going anywhere._

— Hey, my patrol is over and I think I have some liquor in my room, so, I was thinking... wanna have a drink with me? — he asks, Simmons looks at him again—. That’ll help you sleep. Besides, it’s a very good whiskey.

— Uh, o-okay.

Then they both go to Felix’s room. The mercenary find himself somewhat anxious, expecting the sim trooper to take off his helmet. But he definitely _didn’t expect_ a face half human, half robot, nor the bright deep green eye or a dark red hair. Simmons was _cute_. Definitely not his type, at all, but certainly, he was really handsome and also pretty _exotic_.

Felix’s belly tightens with a strange emotion. They start drinking, and well, Simmons being a complete lightweight… meh, he was expecting that.

So just a couple of glasses later, the redhead starts telling him a bunch of things about his team and family.

However, he find himself listening with genuine interest all the damn stories, even allowing himself to experience discomfort and real anger for what the cyborg tells him about his father; laughing when the captain tells him about his constant bickering with Grif or when he tells him about the obvious issues he had when he tried to talk with an attractive women, or _man_ ; and, feeling a slightly excitement when, between stammers and blushes, Simmons tells him that he is _fucking hot_.

 

Felix didn’t think that he had drunk that much, but there wasn’t another excuse for what happened next. He pouncing himself on Simmons, kissing him hard, sucking and licking his whiskey-flavored lips and tongue, his fingers tangling in the soft red hair, Simmons kissing him back with awkwardness and nervousness, but very passionate.

 

One thing led to another, and _it was all_ because the alcohol.

If Felix had completely failed to imagine the face of Simmons, definitely that failure multiplied when it came to his body. He _didn’t expect_ the slim man to have those strong exquisitely defined muscles; smooth, creamy pale skin, with tempting freckles sprinkled on some places. His left extremities were also robotic, attached to his body with white and irregular scars.

The image of Simmons naked on his bed, staring at him hungrily, is definitely the hottest thing he's ever seen in his life.

 

Contrary to his normal nervous, insecure and nerdy attitude, the redhead surprises Felix with his bed skills, pleasantly. _Holy fuck_ , Simmons know how to move, he is so sensitive, verbal and loud, just the way the mercenary liked.

He got a hot, screaming cyborg in his bed, and it is just fucking awesome.

 

The next morning, it knocks on his door, accompanied by the desperate screams of Tucker who woke them up. The mercenary’s arms wrapped around the cyborg, pressing him against his chest.

— Felix! Wake the fuck up! You have to help us… we can’t find Simmons anywhere.

— Uh, okay, I’ll take a shower and I find you in Kimball’s office. —he screams back.

The sound of footsteps moving away is his only response. Both men in the bed remain static. And really, it’s not like they want to move, it is so good just as they are now.

— ‘Morning. —Felix whispers, raising his head a little, trying to get a better sight of Simmons. He waits for a total freak out reaction, however, he _didn’t expect_ , at all, for the redhead to look over his shoulder directly into his eyes and give him that gorgeous, shy but still fucking sexy little smile.

 

If Felix really thinks about it, he can tell that _that_ smile is the one that started everything, that smile is the one that completely caught him.

That night, their first night… was extraordinary, too good. And they suppose that it would be it, a good memory, stuck in their heads to bring it back when each of them were alone. Just that, a fucking awesome memory of a fucking awesome encounter, an encounter that would only happen once. Never again. Just that only night. _Ha… yeah, right._

 

During the first week after the _incident_ , their gazes to each other barely pass unnoticed, even when wearing the helmets. Their gazes are so intense and direct that even Grif asks Simmons if he had any problem with the mercenary.

A couple of days later, the subtle touches begin, a couple of strokes when one passes close to the other, small claps and squeezes on Simmons’ shoulder when Felix come to harass them and particularly annoy Tucker.

 

Just a couple of days later, in the evening, Felix is returning to his room, when he got there, he slams the door closed, sighing with weariness, his armor falling on his way from the door to the bed. He drops himself into the mattress, throwing his helmet aside. He had barely closed his eyes when someone knocks his door. The mercenary growls.

— What? —he yells moodily, only raising his head so that his voice doesn’t muffle against the pillow.

The knock sounds again, without receiving a vocal response, he complains loudly. He rises reluctantly from his bed, crosses the space in long strides, opens the door with a jerk, trying to give his best annoyed look to whoever is outside.

>>— What the fu…—his voice gets cut when he meet facing the beautiful flushed face of a certain red-haired cyborg—. Uh, Simmons? — he asks, a grin spreading across his face—. What are you doing here?

— I… uhm, a-actually…—Simmons whispers nervously, looking to one side, as if he’s preparing himself to run away—. I-I don’t know.

— _Oh._ —Felix whispers back, biting his lower lip, looking at the redhead. His green eye is shining with wetness, his lips swollen from the constant nervous biting, his face with that reddish tone that highlighted the freckles on his human cheek, the shiny robotic inlays… Hell, he was too dinky. And Felix can’t stop the words—. Do you want me to help you to find out it?

Simmons looks at him again, a nervous little smile pulling at his lips, his blush deepening. Felix’s hands rise to take the taller man by the nape of his neck, pull him firmly but gently towards him, making him enter in the room. Their lips meet instantaneously, both groaning with need, finally getting the contact that they’ve wanted for almost two weeks.

With a little kick, Simmons closes the door. Felix smiles against the cyborg’s lips. He begins to tear away the pieces of the maroon armor, which fall to the ground mixing with the ones belonging to Felix’s. The two men fall onto the bed in a mess of limbs and needy pants, Simmons breaks the kiss by cocking his head, they look into each other’s eyes.

— _Holy shit_. —Felix sighs, running his thumbs down the sides of Simmons’ face.

The redhead smiles again, his hand caressing Felix’s chin, lifting it, leaving his lover’s neck at his mercy. The brown haired man gasps when Simmons’ lips make contact with his skin, tilting his head a little bit more and raising and rolling his hips against his lover’s.

 

From then on, they starts seeing each other every single day, spending together every moment of the day they can. And without realizing it, they both become addicted to each other, becoming so intimate and exclusive that they even had start using their first names when they were alone. And boy, there was no sound that turn him on more than Simmons’ broken, needy voice whispering his name.

Shortly before the rescue mission of the Reds and Blues began, Felix warns Locus and the pirates to keep their bullets away from the maroon captain, not giving a shit about the mocking look that some of the bastards directs at him. Locus, however, give him a serious, worried look.

 

— What do you think you are doing, Felix?

— Ahm, I’m pretty sure that I’m hiding so I can talk to you, asshole.

— I’m talking about what you told our soldiers last night.

— Dude, it’s not of your fucking business, okay? Okay. —he answers in a teasing tone.

— It is of my business, because, you’re obviously falling for one of the soldiers that we’re trying to trick. It might interfere with our orders.

— I’m not… —he cuts himself. _Is he?_ Is he really falling in love with Simmons?—. Listen… it’s an acceptable plan. Just leave him alive, that will not affect the plans. I’ll convince him that we should go somewhere else and so he’ll not interfere with anything.

— And how long do you think he will take to find out about your participation in this?

— I… don’t know.

— Do you think he will follow you after knowing?

Felix, for the first time in a long time, doesn’t find an answer. He would love to came back with a “Hell yes, he’ll follow me wherever I go, because he is mine”. But he can’t, and it is because Simmons is a tremendously loyal man, there is no way for him to leave his team.

— Solve it and we will talk about that solution later. —Locus murmurs, understanding the silence of the other man. Before cutting the call, his tone lowers a little—. I am truly sorry about your situation.

Before Felix can respond to that, the call is cut off. He sighs heavily, he had to find a way to talk with his redhead. He has to know.

 

One day, without any warning, Felix is pushed against a wall. Anxious hands removing his helmet and a pair of soft lips connecting with his. Instinctively, the mercenary runs his arms around the waist of the maroon armored man, answering the kiss with passion.

— Isaac I…—Simmons whispers, breaking the kiss to look at the intense amber colored eyes of his lover—. I-I have to go now, I’ll explain everything when I come back…

And then, the words clicks in Felix’s head.

— _Oh no._ —he whispers, tightening his grip on Simmons—. No, wait, I… I have something very important to tell you.—the mercenary starts jumpy—. Richard, I’m not…—Grif’s screams calling for Simmons cuts his sentence. The maroon captain gets out of Felix’s grip and press his lips against his one more time.

— I’ll see you when I come back, okay? We’ll talk about anything you want then.

He puts on his maroon helmet and moves away. At the sound of the warthog approaching, Felix do the same. Simmons climbs up next to Grif. The orange captain looks in his direction, and Felix can almost feel the warning as he looks at Grif’s golden visor.

Two warthogs pass in front of him. He’s momentarily petrified. What the fuck was he going to do now? He _had_ to go meet Locus, those were the damned orders. Hell, he don’t want to lose Richard, _he can’t_ lose him. Because, fuck, he is in love with the fucking cyborg.

A growl come out of his throat. He would think of something to do on his way to the snowy base where Locus had the rest of the Reds and Blues. He jumps in a warthog and gets on the road, calling Locus.

 ___

 

Felix is in the same warthog going back to the New Republic base. According to control, they have to take advantage of the disappearance of the Reds and Blues, making them pass as martyrs. It might motivate the two armies to one final battle, fighting for their fallen heroes.

The steel and orange mercenary is deep in his thoughts, a knot in his stomach tightening at the memory of Simmons’s trembling and hurt voice whispering his name in disbelief, looking directly at him when he’d had to intervene before Tucker threw a grenade at Locus.

From there, everything goes blurry. The Freelancer who pose as one his soldiers began a fight with him, while the bullets start to fly between both sides. Once he manage to stab a knife into the Freelancer’s leg and push her away, finally, he is able to look at the sim troopers, looking for Richard. And he find him. Lying in a pool of blood, both hands squeezing his stomach, Grif kneeling at his side, holding him.

Felix’s brain begins to buzz at the horrible sight. Distantly, he can listen his own voice crying his lover’s name. He is aware of the gazes of the rest of Reds and Blues turning towards him before they disappears.

He throws himself forward, as if that made him reach them, but there is no one else, only _his_ blood grotesquely painting the white snow. Felix kneels in front of the huge stain, growls enraged. A slight glow in the red snow makes him looks down again. Then he sees it: it’s a robotic finger. His stomach churns at the thought of Richard’s state. He takes it between his fingers, squeezing it hard. Exhaling in a trembling way, a soft _I’m sorry_ slipping out of his lips.

  

Of course, both, Kimball and Doyle fall into the mercenaries’ trap, preparing all their troops for the final fight. Locus manage to make contact with the tracking device that Washington had taken. They sent a group of soldiers to fight them, but the Reds and Blues disappeared again with the teleport cubes.

 

* * *

 

Now they are on a ship on their way to the Radio Jammer station, where they would wait for the sim troopers and the Freelancers to respond to Locus’ offer. Felix hadn’t been able to speak when the radio went on, he paid all his attention to any hint of that voice that, goddamn it, he missed too fucking much, but he didn’t hear a fucking thing. And second by second without _his_ voice, Felix’s almost inexistent hope was breaking down more and more.

 

Maybe it is time to wake up, to accept that the only person he has ever care about… was gone.

 

— We are here. —Locus says—. We will talk to them from here. — He sighs—. I hope they make the right decision.

— Dude, I don’t fucking care what they decide, just, whatever happens, I am going to kill Tucker. —he replies, his voice devoid of emotion.

— Of course.

…

— Is time you people understood the futility of your situation. We know where you hiding. We know you are in possession of a single teleportation grenade, and we know that you hold the coordinates to a particular variable Radio Jammer. — Locus explains, with a calm and polite tone—. Which is why my partner and I are contacting you from its location. —he murmurs—. Make no mistake, you will not be interfering with today’s events.

— Says you! —Tucker says on the other side of the conversation, the sound of his voice making Felix’s teeth tighten violently—. We’re the champs of interfering with shit!

— As we speak, the armies of Chorus are converging on the capital, and the battle that ensues will leave no survivors. If your goal was to save these people, you’ve failed. —Felix finds himself kicking the floor with his heels. —. But you now have an opportunity to save yourselves.

— What do you mean? —This time, the Agent Washington’s voice that rang on the radio.

And then Felix is disconnect from the call, which is Locus telling them how things would work and why it was so convenient for them to choose to leave, but the steel-orange armored mercenary don’t care at all. He just wants to avenge Richard’s death, he wants to kill the culprit, Lavernius Tucker.

Distantly he hear Grif calling bullshit on whatever Locus is telling, Locus responds with one of his direct and short lines.

Finally, Locus give them an hour to respond.

 

Obviously the Reds and Blues don’t accept the offer. They fight poorly on Radio Jammer, or well, not so poorly, since they manage to kill the four pirates that Locus and Felix take with them. Now Locus is taking charge of the Freelancer girl. And Felix is finally facing the man who used _his_ Simmons as a fucking shield.

— C’mon Tucker, let’s not draw this out any longer than we have to. —Felix murmurs, in a subdued voice, trying to use the usual teasing and mocking tone which he always used whenever he said something to the aqua sim trooper.

— Sounds good to me. —Tucker replies activating his sword.

— Oh no, you are not. —he says laughing dangerously—. You’re gonna go with the sword?

— What’s wrong? You scared?

— Hmm, this is gonna be fun.

Then he pulls out one of his favorite weapons: a long, jagged knife.

Tucker began asking shit about how he’d managed to trick Kimball and about Locus and something about the betrayal to New Republic.

_The motherfucker was serious? How the fuck dare he speak of betrayals? After what did to Richard?_

— Uh, what? —the sim trooper asks, momentarily lowering his sword. Then Felix realizes that he has said his question out loud. Well, he wouldn’t go back now, because yes, he loves the sound of his own voice, and yes, he wants Tucker to know exactly why he is going to fucking destroy him.

— You. Killed. Him. —he growls, word by word, and Tucker looks so damn confused—. He was supposed to get away with this shit unharmed, I took care of that… and you, you fucking asshole, you… he ended up taking the damn bullets that were for you. It’s your goddamn fault! Richard… he shouldn’t die.

— Richard? Are you talking about Simmons? —Felix snorts, reassuring his damn breathing, he can’t let his emotions stop him from kicking the shit outta Tucker—. Dude, he is not dead.

And that makes his mind disconnect from his body, his hand with the knife falls to his side, the weapon loose between his fingers. He cocks his head, looking at Tucker, the aqua armored man gives a nod to his left side. Felix follow the gaze, and there are the others sim troopers, and at the end of the formation, barely holding a rifle, _is him._

Without thinking, Felix took a couple of steps towards his redhead, receiving an immediate response: the sound of guns being loaded. Grif and Sarge pointing at him with their weapons while Caboose, Donut and Lopez just looked at him with curiosity. Well, Caboose was turning his head to look at everyone in the place, insecure of what was happening.

   — Stay away, dickhead. —Grif threatens, taking a step closer to Simmons. Felix feels an annoying cramp in his chest.

However, his eyes don’t leave Dick. He drops the knife and pull his weapon from his back, letting it fall also into the sand. The maroon captain tilts his head at the action.

— Richard? —He asks in a whisper, getting closer. Receiving a warning growl from Sarge and Grif taking a step in front of Simmons.

— Stay. Away.

And Felix almost wants to laugh at absurdity of the fact that Grif really thinks that his threats mean something. But he just ignores it, knowing that a laugh would not be any help at his moment, as he could feel the discomfort and anger coming from Simmons.

— Simmons, c’mon, let’s talk. —he asks, raising his hand in front of the captain, staying in his place.

— What’s the point? - his redhead asks, and geez, hearing his voice, despite being hurt and angry, made Felix sigh in relief. Richard is real, he is here, he is alive.

— I was not going to let you get hurt, everything was planned.

— Oh, that’s so nice to know. — The sarcasm falls from Simmons’ mouth—. So, what was the plan? Kill all my friends and annihilate a fucking planet?

— Those were the orders.

— And what in the hell made you think that I wanted to be in that plan?

— All our nights together. —Felix replies, and he can see even with the armor on, how his lover’s body tenses up—. Your voice, the way you smile and look at me… —he continues, completely forgetting that there are more people around them both—. Maybe you don’t want to be part of the plan… but you _want to be with me._

Simmons swallows. — What a freaking idiot, right?

— No, Richard, listen to me.

— But I don’t want to. You… me, why would I believe a single word from you? You dupe me, you hid things from me that…

— No, wait… I understand that you feel that way, but I was going to tell you, I swear that I was going to.

— But it’s… that’s not even the real problem, Isaac! —Simmons yells, approaching him with a step, throwing his rifle to the ground.  Felix’s heart bumps hard in his chest when he hear him say his name—. Why would I believe that you give a fuck about me when you’re capable of betraying all the people that trust in you in the way you did? When you can see how hundreds of people kill each other because of you… without feeling a bit of guilt?

— Because all of that was before I met you. —Felix answers back—. I… had everything planned, with Locus. And, I’m not a good person… I know that, I’ve done really bad things and never felt bad about it, but… you make me feel different. —they share a gaze—. I don’t deserve you, I know I don’t deserve you, it’s so fucking clear… But I need you, c’mon _babe_ , I now you feel the same way—And then Simmons doesn’t have an answer—. Just… what do you want from me?

— …what?

— Tell me what you want from me, what you need from me… to forgive me, to give me another opportunity… that’s all I ask for. Once more chance.

— I…

— Do you want me to quit? Do you want me to end up with all this shit? —asks again, moving a step closer, controlling the urge to go through the three remaining steps to throw Simmons in his arms, to feel him and finally convince  himself that he was real—. Because I’ll do it, if it is what you want… I will do it, no hesitation.

— I-I cannot tell you what you should do… y-you’re supposed…

— But I have no idea of what to do, I don’t have any idea of what is right or wrong. I have no fucking idea of anything, I’ve never had it in my life: that’s why I’m a mercenary, because I don’t know what to do with myself… well, also for the money, but…

— Argh, you were doing fine, numbnuts.

— Felix. —Locus’ voice makes turn his head. He was not able to see him, but he knew that he was on top of a rock, behind Tucker.

— No, I’m sorry Locus. —he answers, looking again to Simmons, giving another step—. C’mon, just tell me what you want…

— Fine! I want you to quit, all of this: everything. Your missions, your whole mercenary thing and I want you to come back to the Armonia and stop the fucking war. —Simmons replies, taking a step closer, and Felix must control himself even more: _he_ was approaching—. But that doesn’t matter… the thing here is, what do _you_ want?

— I want to be with you, anyway I can and as much as I can… just that, just to be with you. That’s all. I swear. And I don’t even know how I got to this, but for me, that’s all that matters. - He takes the last step and he is so close, his chestplate is just millimeters from Simmons’—. I’m in love with you, Richard.

Simmons chokes on his own breath. — So I am…—he answers, lowering his head—. But…

— No, no, no but… I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this… but I need you to stay with me. I cannot lose you, I lived a goddamn marathon every day I spent without you… every day I spent thinking that you were gone. I can’t lose you again.

Simmons’s hand clutches his chest piece and pulls him against him. And Felix has never cried, seriously, well, at least not in his adult life, but now, he feels that he could burst into happy tears when Simmons’ arms surround him tightly in a hug. He responds by hugging the waist of the most important person in his life. Unable to do more than sigh shakily.

— I… believe you. Because I want to believe you, I need to believe you. —the taller man whispers.

— Do it, you’ll not regret, I promise. —he replies dropping his forehead on Simmons’ shoulder—. Give me just one more chance, I’ll make it worth it.

— I-It’s not that easy…

— Yes, yes it is. I’ll make it easy for you… just tell me what you want.

— Stay. —he asks, his voice muffled. Felix nods against the maroon shoulder.

— Ahem… I don’t want to interrupt the moment or whatever…—Grif starts—. But I think that you should know that all this is being broadcast throughout whole Chorus. —The two men separate from each other just to look at Grif—. And I know Simmons wants you to go talk to Kimball… but I’m pretty sure that if you get close enough, she’ll fucking shoot you.

— Uh… we’ll find the way. —Simmons replies, losing his voice as soon as he notices that all his friends are watching him, even Wash, Carolina and Epsilon. He haven’t even notice that they’ve returned.

Tucker and Sarge grumble and shake their heads in disagreement, the others are just looking directly to him and Isaac. He looks back at Grif, and his orange fellow gives him a slight nod after sighing dramatically. He can’t help but smile: Grif supports him.

He jumps back when Locus materializes out of nowhere behind Grif, Felix grabs him and pull his hand so that he is behind the shorter man.

— How unfortunate. —Locus murmurs, looking directly at his partner—. I knew that your fortuneless crush would get us in troubles.   

— Locus…

— I guess… as your friend, I’m happy for you. As your partner, I hate you for making us lose our payment.

Felix swallows, not sure of following Locus. — …So?

— So… _we quit._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Work rewrited in here (https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422775)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [We Quit.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422775) by [Eliizaah7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliizaah7/pseuds/Eliizaah7)




End file.
